The Return of eLf ideas

ideas of an eLven being in Canada

Sunday, February 06, 2005

The Eighth of a Dozen Verses

January 26, Wednesday
Green, grass, lush, leaf, flower, fresh, tree—
These are images the season called Spring conjures.

So much for the gloom the last Winter brought; Spring now
Blooms in me a bouquet of hope with a scent of longing for
Some things fresh and wanting to be wrought.

Newly replenished from my well of ink, my poetic pen
On smoothness slides again...

January 27, Thursday
Fate and Nature have been really good to me.
In time for Summer, they gifted me with a newfound self-worth and
A refurbished sense of purpose especially that someone I
Used to love and with whom I'm ready now to share my life has
Finally returned, also all ready to do the same.

The brilliance and brightness of love, in the season of Sol, was
Burning deep in my heart. Luna was equally
Brilliant and bright on that Summer's nights.

May the warmth of my Summer verses be warm enough
To rekindle a thousand idle minds and
Intense enough to melt a million icy hearts.

January 28, Friday
*Verses for Fortune Cookies*
The greatest talent should not remain unused;
The noblest love should not remain unexpressed.

Its beginning is as much important as its ending;
Only by knowing the whole story by heart
Would one come to understand the wisdom it imparts.

One must first understand what's really in one's heart
Before one can truly comprehend what's in the other's heart.

The true child of knowledge is one who
Acknowledges learning is never enough.

The way you think of others
Shall be the way others will think of you.

Half-full, half-empty—the glass of water
Doesn't really matter
As long as you are ready to partake
Of the water of Life.

January 29, Saturday
I have seen from trees so many leafs
Falling one by one, or two by two—
Gracefully or swiftly, depending on the whim
Of the Autumn breeze; just like
My mood which changes from time to time.

Amid the wintry rhythm of the pouring rain, like
The last leaf in the song I tried to cling to my
Subsisting strength and sense of reason.

I'm grateful that my resilience has been immense once again...

Verses from my poetic pen had poured forth swiftly and gracefully,
Like leafs from the Manyōshū falling reverently
To kiss the ever faithful earth, her Majesty.

The cycle of seasons is now complete!

January 30, Sunday
"You are destined for great things,"
Father mused when I was six.

May someone kindly tell me
That the prophecy was true.

January 31, Monday
"Of course, my talented son,"
Father wrote me recently,
"What I said when you were six
'Still holds true until today!"

"Never doubt your character.
What I said was what I saw
In you, Son, when you were small.
And I was all along right
About you, my loving son.

"You make me humble and proud
Like the sun without its shroud."

February 1, Tuesday
The month of Love
Is fin'lly come.

I—oh! Uhmm, well...
Am so in love!

My pen imparts
What my mind partakes;

To nestle in my Belovèd's heart's
A bliss unparalleled from the very start!

February 2, Wednesday
Why are the people nearest to me
The ones who fail to understand my personality;

While those farthest,
The ones who truly care the greatest?

Why does a person tend to be-
Come closer to home and his family
When far away from them is he?

Is this the same as feeling amiss
When you cannot, on your Belovèd's lips,
Peck even a one-second kiss?

Why do many people feel elated by
The downfall of others? Cannot they try
To feel compassion without being wry?

And why do they consider the success
Of others their own waterloos—their brains, what abscesses!

What has happened to these human beings, who,
Instead of rising above their nature to
Achieve humanity, choose to be humankind's
Bane—shame – the tie that binds!

February 3, Thursday
When the night is cruelly
Cold; yes, like this,

I yearn for you to enfold
Me. You I miss!

February 4, Friday
The melody fades into hibernation.
Even the fireflies flicker in consternation.

Already nauseated with this nauseating obligation,
My heart ultimately desires for better expectations.

February 5, Saturday
My heart tonight is like a cup,
Catching tears like pearls from eyes. Stop!
My skull tonight is like a cup,

Holding dreams like vol'tile gas. Soon snap
My patience might. My hands are like a cup,
Waiting for your love-bits like snow to drop.

February 6, Sunday
My left cheek's against your bosom's warmth.
My mouth's against your stiff'ning double peaks.
My right hand's traversing the curves down to your lower lips.
Smooth and soft and slippery my finger slips
Then eagerly
Into the cradle of love's final bliss—

Libidinal longing
Torn between petty pains and sweet surrender


Post a Comment

<< Home